


Halfway up on the Wings of a Fantasy

by aniloquent



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Mild Angst, Misunderstanding, boys being dumb, tony nosing his way into everything as usual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:46:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aniloquent/pseuds/aniloquent
Summary: “Um,” Bucky says intelligently.“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that,” Steve says back, lips redder than before.“Your keys,” Bucky blurts lamely.Steve frowns. “My what?”“You were about to forget your keys,” Bucky says slowly as his brain comes back on. Steve’s lovestruck look turns to sheer horror as Bucky fishes the clanking metal out of his pocket.-Based off the tumblr prompt “Person A is about to leave for work [or insert any other suitable event/place]. Person B asks them if they’ve forgotten anything, and Person A gives them a kiss. Person B turns red and opens their hand to reveal Person A’s keys/wallet/etc., saying “I meant this, but thanks.”





	Halfway up on the Wings of a Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoy this little one shot I got out while I finish the other monsters sitting in my google docs!

It was easy.

It was all too easy.

Bucky’s hands shake as he looks out at the city. He’s itching for a cigarette, but he’d promised Steve three months ago that he would go cold turkey.

Considering tonight’s events, however, Bucky thinks he’s earned that fucking cigarette.

He brings his wrist up to check the time and sighs. It’s far too dark out to make sense of the arms. He fishes his phone out and briefly apologizes to his retinas as the bright screen comes alive. 

Ten fourteen in the evening.

Steve wouldn’t be home for another two hours.

Bucky sighs and drops his head, screen going black as if matching his mood.

_ Fuck _ .

 

_ One hour earlier _

“How do I look, Buck?” Steve says, fussing with his tie in the mirror by the front door of their apartment. Bucky doesn’t even look away from the television screen as he snorts.

“Like you’ve been nominated for a completely white-washed Oscar category,” he says, snatching Steve’s keys off of the coffee table and dropping them into his pocket before pushing himself up to his feet and making his way over to Steve, who turns to frown at him.

“That doesn’t sound like it’s very good,” he pouts, and lets Bucky slap his hands away from his tie. The brunet inspects the cloth carefully before sighing.

“You asked for my opinion! Also how the fuck did you mess up the tie this badly? I didn’t know that was possible.” 

Steve snorts. “My artistic capabilities stop at a pencil and paper. We all know that.”

Bucky rolls his eyes, glancing up at Steve briefly before looking back down at the tie he’s redoing. His cheeks are warming up from the amused look Steve’s giving him, and he knows he’s been made. There’s no way Steve  _ can’t _ see him blushing. They’re not even standing a foot apart. Shit. “Pencil and paper my ass. That’s why you’ve been invited to this gigantic rich people party, right? Because you’re good at making boxes.”

Steve huffs, and jostles the otherwise perfect loop Bucky’s making. He shoots the blond a warning glare. “Get off my dick. This is Stark’s thing and I was invited because I did the outline for his new building. It was more out of courtesy than anything. I probably won’t even see that asshole tonight.” Steve pauses as Bucky pulls the end of the tie through and regards his work. “Besides, it’s called a  _ gala _ , Bucky.”

Bucky shoots him a flat look. “You’re too humble. You made it in with the rich whites! Be proud of yourself!” He punches Steve’s arm before immediately straightening out the cloth on his massive shoulders. “And Stark may be a demanding asshole that made you lose sleep for the last eight months, but his checkbook is very generous.” Steve laughs as Bucky coos at him and pats his cheek. “You take such good care of your housewife.”

Steve’s hand comes up to hold Bucky’s hand against his cheek as he leans into his touch. “Anything for you, dear.”

And, fuck.

Bucky sort of hates Steve at the moment.

Hates how beautiful and smart and nice and funny he is. Hates how he took Bucky in after he got discharged and helped Bucky through therapy and getting back on his feet and never asked for anything in return. Hates how willing he is to play along and flirt back with Bucky even though he probably doesn’t love Bucky like Bucky loves him. Hates how  _ caring _ he is, and if Bucky ever came clean about his feeling, Steve would probably politely reject him and offer to make his favorite food as consolation. 

“You should probably get a move on, huh?” Bucky says suddenly. Steve doesn’t even look phased as they step apart. “Don’t wanna keep the Uber waiting forever.”

Steve nods. “You’re right. We aren’t rich enough to start being assholes to random people yet.” Bucky snorts as Steve grabs his jacket and heads for the door.

Without even attempting to look for his keys.

What would he do without Bucky?

“Steven Grant,” Bucky snaps before Steve can even get all the way out of the door.

Steve frowns at him. “Yes, James Buchanan?”

Bucky crosses his arms and purses his lips. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

A slow grin spreads across Steve’s face as he enters the apartment again. “I guess I am, aren’t I?”

And then everything started to happen in slow motion.

Steve makes his way over to Bucky quicker than he would’ve thought possible for a big oaf like Steve. He’s ridiculously close to Bucky now, even closer than when he was fixing that idiot’s tie, and Bucky gulps as their chests touch. He doesn’t know what Steve’s game is. He isn’t sure if he likes it.

Then Steve’s hands are coming up to cup Bucky’s face gently, and the blond closes his eyes and leans forward.

Oh.

Oh  _ no _ .

Bucky would like to say that he had some sort of self-control when Steve kissed him, had some shred of common sense to clam up and demand why his best friend was kissing him like it was their last day on Earth, but that would be a complete lie.

He doesn’t go wild and latch onto Steve like a monkey (for God’s sake he just straightened out Steve’s suit), but he definitely responds as Steve kisses him, slow and sweet and as if there’s not a 35-year-old man with a 4.2 star-review on Uber waiting impatiently outside their apartment building. 

Steve pulls away, and the look that he’s giving Bucky makes him blush all the way to the roots of his hair. 

“Um,” Bucky says intelligently.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that,” Steve says back, lips redder than before. 

“Your keys,” Bucky blurts lamely.

Steve frowns. “My what?”

“You were about to forget your keys,” Bucky says slowly as his brain comes back on. Steve’s lovestruck look turns to sheer horror as Bucky fishes the clanking metal out of his pocket.

Steve takes them sullenly, unwilling to look Bucky in the eye. “Bucky, I-”

Tell him. Tell him now. “We can talk about it when you get home, Stevie,” he says evenly, and pushes Steve towards the door. “Text me when you make it, okay?”

Steve’s shoulders drop. “Yeah, Buck, I will.”

-

Bucky didn’t know what to make of Steve’s text after that, a short  _ I’m here _ with none of the usually flare or irritating strings of emojis as usual. An emotionless message that probably meant that Steve had come to his senses over the course of his ride.

A police siren went off down the block. Bucky barely even noticed it as he moped.

He should have said something different.  _ Anything _ different. What was the point in being gay if he didn’t always have a snarky comment locked and loaded and ready to go? 

He sighs and hops off of the fire escape, numbly making his way through the apartment and back to the living room. He plops down on the couch and turns the television back on, watching Kim argue with her sisters about something he was far too zoned out to care about. Whatever. He was going to stomach reality television until Steve got back. He deserved for his last two hours of sanity to be somewhat peaceful. 

Bucky tries to focus hard on the Kardashians.

Steve had some explaining to do, his brain reminds him. Who the hell kisses someone like that as a friend? How long had he been waiting to do that? What did he expect Bucky to do after that?

But Steve was Steve, and Bucky was Bucky. He knows that he loves Steve more than what was healthy, and that if Steve comes home tonight and decides not to acknowledge the large fucking elephant in the room for another three years, Bucky would be more than happy to wait on him.

He needs to get a grip.

He squints. Did Kim get her ass redone?

-

“Bucky,” a voice murmurs. The brunet barely stirs. His body moves listlessly as someone jostles it. “Bucky, wake up. I’m home.”

Oh, Steve was home.

How nice.

That was a quick two hours, though. Bucky wonders how long he had been asleep if he started dozing off when Kanye-

WAIT.

STEVE WAS HOME?

Bucky sits straight up with a loud snore, wiping at his eyes and blinking rapidly to see Steve standing over him, amused. His tie was out of sorts and his hair was sticking up in all directions.

“I hope you’re taking her out to breakfast tomorrow, looking like that.”

Steve snorts and sits down next to him. He throws an arm behind Bucky. “I think you and I both know that’s not happening. I met Stark tonight- well, actually, I met Vodka Stark tonight and he’s incredibly handsy.”

Bucky frowned. “Lawsuit handsy?”

Steve shook his head. “I wish. He just hugged me a lot and told me what a specimen I was. Who would have known the richest man in New York was a gay drunk?”

Bucky shrugs. “Have you seen yourself? It’s not that hard to believe.”

They laugh, and it dies down too quickly. Steve is staring at him hard, and Bucky’s running out of places to look that  _ aren’t _ those stupid blue eyes.

“I’m sorry for kissing you,” Steve bites out. “But-“

“You shouldn’t be!” Bucky interrupts quickly. “I mean, you don’t have to be. It isn’t- um. I didn’t mind. At all.”

This scenario played out so much smoother in Bucky’s head. 

Steve chews on his lip thoughtfully, skin illuminated by the pale glow of the television. “I really like you, Bucky. I have for a while. You’re my best friend and I love you a lot, and I would love to give us a try if you’re up for it.”

Bucky blinks at him. 

“You asshole.”

Steve frowns. “What?”

Bucky throws his hands up. “I was supposed to initiate this damn thing! You never let me have anything!”

Steve laughs, loud and bright. “Sorry, Buck. Next time we have to profess our undying love to one another, I’ll let you go first.”

Bucky smiles. “Thank you.”

This time, when Steve leans in, Bucky’s ready for it. 

**Author's Note:**

> Come follow me on Tumblr


End file.
